


A Plausible Excuse

by kaitlia777



Category: V (2009)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:56:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24916477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaitlia777/pseuds/kaitlia777
Summary: They had to explain the photos somehow.
Relationships: Erica Evans/Jack Landry





	1. Chapter 1

That folder hadn't been on her desk when she'd left the night before.

Erica Evans entered her office and took a seat, eyeing the innocuous looking folder. It was early and most of the agents that worked in her office had yet to arrive. She'd decided to come in early, as sleep was proving elusive. Understandable, considering she had just found out that her son had decided to vandalize and desecrate St. Josephine's church in response to the murder of several V Peace Ambassadors.

Tyler hadn't even seemed the least bit ashamed of what he had done when she confronted him. He'd had the nerve to tell her she should be careful who she chose to be friends with and then had a veritable tantrum when she produced his phone. He knew where he had dropped it and realized she'd been to the church and seen Jack. Despite ordering him to his room, he stomped out, shouting that she couldn't ground him.

So, coming in a few hours early seemed a better idea than sitting around and brooding.

Flipping open the folder, she stared down at the contents and felt a cold dread in her stomach.

A picture and a note that read:

Bolling watching you.

Kendrick knows.

Need plausible excuse.

Damn it. A picture of Jack and herself outside St. Josephine's, taken very recently. Chris knew she had lied to him. This was bad.

On the other hand, there seemed to be someone else on their side within the FBI.

Reaching for her phone she paused. If Chris was trailing her, then the line might be tapped. She could try to find a payphone…but that would look suspicious. No one used payphones anymore.

No, best to just be cryptic.

She hit speed dial as she stuffed the picture into her jacket and rose. He answered on the third ring, sounding slightly out of breath. "Hello?"

"Hey, Jack," she greeted him, trying to sound as casual as possible. "You okay?"

He chuckled. "Fine. Just taking my morning run."

The sun hadn't even come up and he was running. Erica had never been a morning person. "Sounds fun," she quipped. "Can you meet me for coffee? That diner would be good."

There was a diner they sometimes grabbed coffee at after a late meeting with Hobbes and Ryan. Jack agreed easily and they hung up.

Twenty minutes later, Erica was sipping a coffee when Jack arrived, clad in sweats, clearly having come directly from wherever he had been running. He smiled, slipping into the other side of the booth and wrapping a hand around the coffee she'd ordered for him. His eyes were warm and slightly concerned as he asked, "Is everything…all right?"

He of course knew about Tyler's foray into juvenile delinquency. Still juvenile for a couple of months, but that wouldn't stop him from being charged as an adult if he kept up his current behavior. Next time, people might be less reluctant to call the police than Father Travis and Jack.

Something brushed her wrist and Erica jumped. She'd let herself go off on a mental tangent of maternal worry over Tyler and, when she hadn't answered him, Jack had reached across the table, wrapping warm fingers around her hand. Giving his fingers a squeeze, she smiled, hoping to reassure him.

"I talked to Tyler last night," she said, letting her hand rest on the tabletop beside his. Their pinkies were touching and, though she knew she was being silly, it made her feel less…stressed. "He refused to take any responsibility for what he'd done, other than to defend it. Then he accused me of letting myself be taken in by "a bad guy disguised as a good guy", his words, and then he stomped off to spend the night on the mother ship."

Jack blinked as he absorbed the information and then grimaced. "If it weren't so horrible, the irony of his assessment would be really funny."

She'd thought the same thing, so she agreed with a nod before continuing. "After that, I couldn't sleep, so I loaded up on coffee and went to work. There was something waiting for me."

Sliding the picture, still with the post-it attached, to Jack, she watched as his expression grew grim. "This isn't good."

"Not at all. Before we came to talk to you, I told Chris that I hadn't seen you for weeks. This was taken five days ago. He knows I lied and so does Kendrick…and he's keeping things from me, investigating me, even as he's telling me I could trust him…What is it with my partners?" she asked in rhetorical exasperation and jack smiled, bumping her hand gently.

"You've still got me," he offered and the honesty in his voice made her return his smile. He was her partner in this, had been since that fateful night in the warehouse. "So, any ideas for a 'plausible explanation'? I don't suppose the counseling a parishioner excuse will work again?"

She shook her head, taking the photo back and tucking it into her jacket. The image had captured Jack smiling fondly at her and, though she was turned away, the curve of her cheek showed that she was as well. But most damning was the fact that they appeared to be holding hands.

Not that they were. Not really. She'd simply run a hand down his arm and given his hand a reassuring squeeze…okay, so maybe they'd held on a moment longer than necessary, but it was nothing untoward.

It just looked that way.

There was, of course, the obvious non-Fifth Column reason for her to be secretly spending time with Jack. He was a good looking man and she'd admit to an attraction…to herself, at least, because he was a freaking priest! Meaning the sex excuse wasn't viable.

Then again, the fact that it was forbidden would provide a good reason for lying to Chris. But she wasn't sure she could bring herself to voice it as a serious option to Jack.

"I suppose I could say we struck up a friendship and I lied because it's frowned upon for an agent to get involved with someone who's a person of interest in an ongoing case." Even as she said it, the words registered as weak to her ears.

Jack tried to look supportive, but eventually admitted that no one would buy it. "They know you're too smart to do a thing like that," he said kindly, then sighed and glanced out the window. "Maybe you can say you were trying to talk me down from my anti-V stance?"

The idea had merit, but wouldn't explain the lie. The cameras that oh so conveniently never captured footage of the V's doing something nasty were proving damning for them, the good guys in this fight. "Well," she began, trying to phrase things as…inoffensively as possible, "There is always…I mean, we're two healthy adults, but it would be, uh…a bit…."

"Yeah," he agreed and she could see he knew where she was going with her roundabout statement. "That could work…probably better than any of our other options."

There was a faint blush on his cheeks, but her quirked another smile at her, as she knew she was probably a bit red too. Discussing a make believe affair to use as a cover story for your quasi-terrorist activities was not a normal conversation to have with a priest.

Especially not one who looked like Jack. In the back of her mind, she wondered how many of his female parishioners sat in the pews and entertained impure thoughts as he stood before them, giving a heartfelt sermon.

The number was probably very large.

"Are you sure?" she asked as he took a sip of his coffee, clearly to have something to do. "I may not be a Catholic, but I do know that some things are a pretty big no-no for you priests."

His expression was rueful as he said, "It's fine. I'm giving a sermon at mass tomorrow that the Vatican will not approve of. I'll just be waiting for censure."

At the FBI, censure would mean a reprimand, probation, a note in their file…even termination over a major offense. She wasn't sure what the church would do. So she asked, "What will that mean?"

Looking down into his cup, he replied, "Well, considering my record of late, I don't think Father Travis will ask for leniency on my behalf."

"Not really and answer," she said, realizing Jack was very good at not talking about himself. He was more of a listener.

"I can't be certain, but what I'm thinking…I may need to find a new career path," he admitted without looking her in the eye.

Erica couldn't imagine what he must be feeling. His avocation was a large part of how Jack defined himself. He honestly seemed to love his faith and, even if she didn't always understand that, she admired him for the strength of his convictions.

Losing his job meant losing a large part of his life. That had to be very hard for him to think about. In a reversal of their roles from the previous night, she wrapped her hand around his and said, "I'm here for you. You know that, right?"

"I know." His smile was sad, but he seemed oddly at peace things, like he'd known this was coming. Maybe he had. "Whatever happens, happens. I'm going to speak my mind."

Though they were few in numbers, the Fifth Column seemed to have more than it's fair share of stubbornness.

That could end up being a deciding factor in this war. The sheer refusal of the human race to bow down to a foe possessing vastly superior numbers and technology.

Of course it would be helpful if they didn't have to hide their actions from their fellow humans.

But such was the life of an underground resistance fighter.

During their conversation, her hand had linked with Jack's again and his thumb was moving slowly across her knuckles. He didn't seem to notice that he was doing it.

At least it wasn't going to be hard to convince Chris that they were having an affair. If he had them under observation…well, it would probably be harder to convince him that nothing was going on.

Considering she couldn't even tell herself nothing was happening between them, their cover story was probably going to be pretty effective.


	2. Chapter 2

Another day, another mystery folder. Lovely. Just how she wanted to start the day.

Her mysterious informant had left her another present.

Taking her seat, she flipped open the file and immediately grimaced at the picture looking up at her.

It was paper clipped to a note:

Really? You find out you're under observation and you decide to take a stroll in public? NOT SMART! They've opened an investigation now. Next time, try talking inside. Walls, they are a good thing.

Damn it! She had to stop lingering in the door way of the church when saying goodbye to Jack. It was just hard sometimes…hard to leave to leave the person she trusted most in the world, when so much of her life now involved having to lie to people.

She could be herself with Jack.

Sighing, she took the note and picture out of the folder and tucked them into her vest pocket.

After the assassination attempt at the Concordia reception, she wasn't overly surprised that her already suspicious colleagues were looking into her. In all honesty, she'd have been suspicious a long time ago, had she been in their shoes.

At least, she would have been after the whole Dale incident…but, of course, they had no idea he had been a V spy.

God, she missed chasing Earth born terrorists.

The door to her office creaked open and she looked up to see Chris peering in at her, a grim expression on his face. Clearly, he was planning on having a 'talk' with her.

Great.

This morning just kept getting better and better.

"Erica, a word?"

"Sure, Chris," she replied, keeping her tone light. No sense in giving away anything before she had to.

Exiting the office, she was startled to see Kendrick leading Jack, in jeans and a sweater, into one of the interrogation rooms, while Chris was herding her towards the other.

Nice gambit, boys, but too late. They'd had time to get their stories straight, so there would be no divide and conquer today.

Game on.

"Have a seat," Chris offered, indicating the suspect chair.

Subtle.

Erica took a seat and looked her former friend in the eye. "What's this about?"

"I think you know." Chris's voice was cooler and he already sounded disappointed. Opening a folder, he laid out several surveillance photos of herself and Jack. "You lied to me."

She looked down at the photos, refusing to look him in the eye. Play up the embarrassment. "Well, it's not exactly something I like to talk about."

"You're admitting it!" His voice raised an octave in shock. "Erica, I have to say I'm surprised. I thought you'd at least try to explain away your connection to a terrorist org…."

"Terrorist!" Now it was her turn to sound surprised. Lay it on thick. "I'm not a terrorist!"

Chris's face crumpled in confusion. "But you just admitted to…."

"An…inappropriate relationship," Erica said, feeling an the all too real heat of a blush on her cheeks. Her fingers were resting on the photo that showed her holding Jack's hand. "I know, I know, it's wrong on so many levels, but it's also so right."

Meanwhile, in the other interrogation room…

"Excuse me?"

Jack Landry heaved a sigh as he looked across a table in an FBI interrogation room (again). "Look, it's not like this is something either of us went looking for. But sometimes things don't always happen according to plan. At least, not any plan we can understand."

"But…you're a priest," Agent Kendrick sputtered. For the moment, their plan to divert attention from their Fifth Column activities was working really well. "You can't…um…."

Okay, insulting. The collar didn't make him a eunuch, just attested to a vow he'd taken to abstain from the pleasures of the flesh. He was still just a man. Not that it mattered anymore. "Actually, I can. This morning I received notice of a Papal decree releasing me from my position."

A vein on Agent Kendrick's temple was throbbing. "So, these pictures are evidence of an affair."

"That word makes it sound sordid."

"What about your public, anti-V stance?"

Meanwhile, in the other interrogation room…

"Jack's not a terrorist either. He wants to believe in the goodness of all mankind, aliens too, but he's got a lot of questions that he feels no one has bothered to address. He knows violent actions like those that the Fifth Column has taken are only going to make it harder for reasonable people like him to get answers."

Chris was still wrestling with the 'having sex with a priest' surprise. In fact, Erica had heard a phrase on a television show that she felt completely summed up her partner's expression. Aneurysm Face. Finally, he rallied himself enough to ask, "But don't his views directly conflict with your son's close relationship to the V's? Or your own position as part of the Fifth Column task force?"

"I'm head of the task force," she corrected sharply. "We both respect each other enough not to judge based on our personal stances about the V's."

"He lead an angry mob," Chris countered archly. "To an event where you were in charge of security. He punched someone in his church. Not exactly non violent actions."

Nice try.

"Jack led a non-violent protest and anyone could see that video was edited. He was breaking up a fight, trying to prevent people from being hurt," Erica defended without sounding anxious. If these pictures and theories were all the evidence Chris had, then the most trouble she'd face would be a visit form the Office of Professional Conduct, for getting involved with a person of interest. "Have you bothered to listen to what he has to say?"

Meanwhile, in the other interrogation room…

"Why do you hate the V's, Father Landry?"

"It's not Father anymore," Jack replied, unconsciously raising a hand to his bare throat. He'd never wear the collar again. That thought caused a cold lump to form in his throat, but he swallowed around it. "I don't hate them."

Agent Kendrick blinked. "Well, that's news to me. Especially considering your publicly stated views."

"I don't hate them, but I do think we've been remiss in our rush to embrace them as allies and saviors. People the world over are wary of their fellow man, simply due to place of birth, skin color or religion and yet, aliens arrive and are accepted without pause. I'm sorry, but I can't help but think prudence would have been the wiser course of action."

Flipping through a file, Kendrick said, "So you deny involvement with the Fifth Column? The bombings, murders and the attempted assassination of Marcus?"

"I don't condone violence as a means to get a message across," Jack answered, then held up a hand to as Kendrick began to speak. "I know you've seen the video, read my Army Jacket, but in both cases, there's more to it that is easily seen."

"Let's talk about that for a moment," Kendrick said, eyes narrowed. "Chaplains aren't issued weapons, let alone trained to use one."

Jack frowned. "My father taught me to shoot and the weapon was not my own."

"Still, I'd think taking a life would go against your stated stance of non-violence."

Asshole.

"Did you ever serve?"

"I was recruited to the Bureau straight out of law school," Kendrick said with a nod. "More that 20 years of service."

"No, I'm asking if you've ever been to war," Jack said, knowing he was going to have to talk about something he really didn't want to discuss. "Clearly you haven't."

"Enlighten me."

"The company I was assigned to, they were a good group. Some soldiers aren't fond of chaplains, because they're unarmed, another man to protect, but not someone you could count on to have your back. Every chaplain has an armed assistant, but sometimes that's not enough."

"I usually ended up driving, or helping with the injured, because I'd volunteered for medical training at basic. One night, there was this long, drawn out firefight and I ended up out of the Humvee, trying to stabilize Russo. Valenz, my assistant was covering me, but he went down. Bullet went right under his helmet. He was dead before he hit the sand."

"The shots kept getting closer and closer, and Russo wasn't ready to be moved. It would have killed him and he was only 18...Valenz's weapon was there and I picked it up. When the enemy appeared, I took the shot. It happened twice before the rest of the company pushed forward around us and Doc could see to Russo."

"I'll be honest with you. Those two kills were confirmed, but there have been more other times. I made a choice to stand and defend fallen friends. Maybe the church would have preferred I willingly allow myself and others in my care to die, but I just don't think I have it in me to do that."

"You asked me to enlighten you, well here it is," He said, throat dry and voice tight. "I saw and did things I never could have imagined. Innocents seen as acceptable casualties and good men, some little more than children, becoming desensitized to violence and death around them."

"I can't wish that upon anyone. I'm more jaded now, slower to accept things at face value. For someone whose avocation involved having faith in the goodness of all…well, let's just say I had my questions long before the V's arrived."

Meanwhile, in the other interrogation room…

"We met when he brought in some pictures that one of his parishioners had given him. There was this almost instant connection," Erica said, glad she could be honest about something at least. "We got to talking, it was all innocent at first, but some things are just undeniable, you know?"

Chris looked annoyed and more than a little frustrated. "You're saying you're sleeping with a priest. That's your excuse?"

Again, the flush hit her cheeks. "Yes. You wanted to know how I know he isn't a terrorist? There it is. He's at church all day and with me at night."

Rubbing his forehead, Chris looked down at the pictures scattered across the table, at affectionate touches and fond smiles, all caught on film. His face softened and Erica knew he'd bought it. "Christ, Erica!" he breathed, then grimaced as he continued, "A priest?"

"You can't help who you love," she said wistfully, not having to fake that part. "He's stepping down soon."

"There are rules that are supposed to keep this shit from happening," Chris muttered. "OPR will be after you."

"I know," she replied, smiling a tiny smile down at the pictures before her.

Hopefully, Jack was having similar luck.

Meanwhile, in the other interrogation room…

"If that's all, can I go?"

Clearly, they didn't have any real evidence and now Kendrick and Bolling had a red herring explanation to chase. The FBI AD seemed rather annoyed, but eventually replied, "Don't leave town."

Huh.

Jack hadn't know law enforcement types actually said that. Rising, he exited the room and Erica made beeline for him, clearly having finished her own chat. Her fingers lit upon the back of his hand while he touched her arm.

Hey, they had an act to keep up.

"I'm on leave until I meet with the OPR guys," she said, tilting her head as she asked, "Coffee?"

"Smiling, he said, "Love to. Also, I have news."

He'd yet to tell her about being laicized.

They exited, her arm looped through his and they could feel eyes watching as they went.

* * *

Sitting in his office, Paul Kendrick reviewed the interrogation tapes with Bolling. Erica's story matched that of the priest - former priest- , but not so much so that it sounded like a script they'd devised.

Damn.

"What do you think?" Paul asked, using the remote to pause the split screen images of the two blondes, both of who were pink with embarrassment.

Bolling crossed his arms and gave an annoyed sigh. "I believe her. She thought I was busting her about sleeping with a priest. If she was involved with a terrorist group, that would be the thing on her mind when sitting in an interrogation room."

Grimacing, Paul said, "Agreed. Landry doesn't seem to have any interest in violence either."

"Back to the grindstone then," Bolling said unhappily. "It would have been so much easier on us if they'd actually turned out to be Fifth Column. Right here to capture, but no…."

The investigation was back to square one.

Again.


End file.
